Lemonade and Wheat Sandwiches
by it's friday night
Summary: Cat Valentine was fond of pretty, bright, happy things. Like cupcakes and sparkles and a lot of times-lemonade.


******A/N: I, surprisingly, ship this couple waaaaaaaay more thank Tori/Beck. I don't know, I think it's because I'm stubborn and don't typically like mainstream things. It bores me when a big group of people is into one thing. So, expect more Victorious stories from me :D**

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Cat Valentine was fond of pretty, bright, happy things. Like cupcakes and sparkles and a lot of times-lemonade.

So when she skipped into the cafeteria on a particularly gloomy looking Monday afternoon, she headed straight to the snack line to get a bottle of lemonade to brighten her day a little bit.

Cat examined the choices of lemonade—pink and yellow, yellow and pink. Once she had made her decision, she hadn't noticed the shadow of a body lingering over her and her arm lunged forward for a bottle of lemonade at the same time as he.

"Hey!" Cat cried, looking up at the person. In the two seconds it took for her to jerk her head upwards, she had already decided that he was definitely going on her list. "Oh, hey Beck," she said once she recognized who the lemonade stealer was.

"Hey, Cat…" Beck said awkwardly, loosening his grip on the bottle. He knew how emotional Cat got about the slightest things and decided that this wasn't another breakdown he wanted to have to experience. "You can have the lemonade, Cat. I'll get another," Beck said nervously. Cat giggled cheerfully, the little dimples on her cheeks becoming prominent. She skipped away happily, shouting a thanks to Beck.

It was that day that Beck decided that he liked dimples and red hair. A lot.

Cat walked to the courtyard of Hollywood Arts, letting the cool night wind sting against her bare legs and whip her red hair around wildly. She saw the figure of a boy with big hair sitting beside a tree. "Robbie?" she called out as she walked. "Robbie, is that you?" As she got closer, the boy stood up slowly, stretching his back and that's when Cat came to realize that this was none other than Beck Oliver sitting beneath a tree.

Dumbfounded by this situation, she asked, "Beck, what are you doing here?" He walked out from beneath the green leaves of the tree and into the illuminated night sky. "I always come out here on Thursday nights. To think." Cat nodded to say that she understood. An awkward silence fell over the courtyard, and nothing but the night wind could be heard.

Cat decided that if she wanted to be home on time, that she should get started now. So she waltzed over to the tree that Beck was previously under, tucked her hair behind her ear and placed her ear against the trunk of the tree. She closed her eyes and began humming the words to some song, all while Beck stared on in pure bewilderment.

"What. **_Are_** you doing?" he finally blurted out. She opened her eyes and quickly responded, "I'm singing to the trees. Because no one else will." He still looked confused, so she motioned for him to come over to where she was. He hesitantly walked over to Cat, wondering if she was plotting something. "Give me your hand" she whispered softly. He slowly raised his hand up and she grabbed it and gently placed it on the bark of the tree. "Put your ear against it and close your eyes," she commanded. Beck shot her a confused stare and she shot him a pleading look and he reluctantly did as told. His hand still clasped in hers, she hummed the song again, gently moving Beck's hand up and down against the bark of the tree.

A couple of minutes passed before Cat stopped abruptly, pulling something from her bag. "Wh-why'd you stop? I was just getting into it," he exclaimed. He opened his mouth to say more, but decided not to once he saw a bottle of lemonade and a little sandwich in a little plastic baggie. She sat on the bench that stood in the middle of the foliage. "Want some?" she asked, holding out the sandwich. "I actually don't EAT wheat—" he began. He was stopped short by the sound of Cat whimpering and her eyes welling. Beck gave in quickly, he wasn't that able to deal with crying girls. Beck sat down beside the red haired girl as she took the sandwich from its bag and gave him one half and bit into the other. And that's how it was for the next half hour. Two people, a sandwich and silence.

Cat stood up once she was done and wiped the crumbs from her mouth and glanced down at Beck. "I gotta go, I have a curfew. I'll see you tomorrow at school, right?" she said with a slight hint of drowsiness in her high voice.

"Bye," she said as she turned around and began walking home. It was on this walk that she decided that Beck's hands were soft. They weren't rough from playing an instrument like Andre's or shoving his hand up dummy like Robbie's. She also decided that he smelled like vanilla. Vanilla was her favorite type of ice cream, especially once she decorated it with rainbow sprinkles.

Cat Valentine was fond of pretty, bright, happy things. Like cupcakes and sparkles and lemonade. But most importantly, Cat Valentine was fond of Beck Oliver. **  
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End file.
